jstor is a wonderful resource, but it’s also dangerous because you’ll start out reading articles related to your lit essay and then before you know it it’s 3am and you’ve wasted the whole night reading about the perceived threat of witchcraft towards fishing vessels in 18th century dorset
I will never be over the fact that MURDOC wrote a whole album full of love songs while stuck on a floating heap of garbage in the middle of the ocean with 2D and a robot made with his little guitar child’s DNA
Some kind of nature Some kind of nature Some kind of soul Come from within us Oh Lord, forgive me Some kind of mixture Some kind of gold It’s got to come and find us All we are is dust - Some kind of Nature
Okay so I may lose some followers for this but honestly, I dont fucking care, i’m sick of the ship hate, i’m gonna draw ships for People in the Gorillaz community, i’m sick of all the negativity surrounding ships in this community. Why does everyone have to be so immature and start fights over the smallest of things. Honestly I ship Russdoc and 2doc, i dont care if you dont like it, don’t judge People for what they ship, if you dont like it then it’s okay XD but don’t have a hissy fit about it. Im not going to draw ships all the time so dont worry haha
Self Titled: Stoner music. The smell of weed clinging to everything that you own. Jamming with your friends in your parent’s garage. Bloody noses. Bruised knuckles. Shitty arcade games from the eighties.
D Sides: Black light. Shitty bowling alleys in the middle of nowhere. Having fizzy drinks come out of your nose. Broken glass. Molotov cocktails. Fluorescent lights. Fading highway lines that stretch on forever. Knock off raybans.
Demon Days: Edgy. Drawing on your sneakers with sharpie. Chain smoking. Old zombie movies. Dance music tinged with murder. Being suicidal but seeing the beauty in living.
Plastic Beach: Being shipped to summer camp. Sunlight burning you to a crisp. Old tubes of paint. Music playing far away in the distance. Sand beneath your toes. Sun burn.
The Fall: Mid November. Being stuck in a hotel room in a city that you’ve never been to. Smoking on curbs. Crying but you don’t know why. Pills making your mind go blurry. Feeling numb all the time.
Humanz: Vibrant. Mid July. Drugs, but quality drugs that make you fuzzy for hours. Fancy bar cocktails. Hickeys. Waking up in a stranger’s bed. The scratchy sound that old records make. A TV just buzzing with white noise. Knowing all the lyrics to songs that you’ve never heard. Lipstick. Tights.